


Autumn In New York

by she_who_drank_vodka_with_cats



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Autumn, Friends to Lovers, Halloween, Howard Stark Is a Dick, Knitting, M/M, Quiet love, Shitty Halloween Costumes, calm, fall - Freeform, family friendly Halloween gathering, how to say I love you without using words, mention of alcoholism, past alcohol abuse, stories from a shitty childhood, team dinner, very short mentioning of the usage of blood in soups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26320825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/she_who_drank_vodka_with_cats/pseuds/she_who_drank_vodka_with_cats
Summary: Tony and Steve are team mates, co-captains of the Avengers and best friendsbut as life goes on in the avenger tower and fall settles over the city of New York, nature's vibrant last gasp before winter, the two men seem to have fallen for each other already without either of them noticing
Relationships: Carol Danvers/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Wanda Maximoff/Vision
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	Autumn In New York

**Author's Note:**

> a big thank you to mad-the-second for beta reading! 💕🌺  
> their tumblr -> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/mad-the-second
> 
> this patient soul had to wait for a whole year for me to finish this story
> 
> 🍁☔🍂🌻🦔🎃
> 
> title and songs mentioned in the story are from Billie Holiday

The sidewalk was a colorful sea of umbrellas. People were hurrying to get to a dry and preferably warm location. Large drops banged loudly upon the porch roof Steve had been able to find shelter beneath before the rain had changed from a light drizzle to a full-on pour.

It was the end of summer and while the air was still fairly warm, the bad weather reminded everyone that the cold season was getting closer. Deceived by the sunny morning, Steve had left his jacket at home. Now, he regretted it. He had wrapped his arms around himself to rub away the goosebumps on his naked arms, with no effect to his damp skin. Frustrated, he shoved his hands beneath his armpits to keep at least his fingers warm.

A sleek car steered out of the traffic rushing by and came to an abrupt stop at the curb. Its front tire disrupted a large puddle, splashing the water over the pavement, it's waves only stopping millimeters in front of Steve's shoes before flowing back again.

The passenger window rolled down and Steve was greeted by Tony Stark's wide smile, bright as the city lights reflecting on the car’s wet surface. Perched on his nose was a pair of mirrored shades with a golden reflection.

"Get in! Or are you waiting for next spring to thaw you out of your position?"

"I was actually thinking about another seventy years being frozen,'' Steve countered before ducking his head and hurrying to get in the car.

"Where’s Nat?"

"She asked me to pick you up in her stead. Said something about her days as your chauffeur being over since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Tony was quick to merge back into traffic and drive them downtown, to Avengers tower.

"You okay? It’s gotten pretty chilly out there.”

"I’m fine," Steve assured him. "Lucky me, your meeting was already over?”

"Lucky me to have had a reason to end the meeting earlier.”

"Tony," he regarded the businessman with a disapproving look. "I don’t like being the reason you have to interrupt your work. Avengers business is interfering with Stark Industries enough already."

"Don’t worry about it, golden boy. There's no better reason to bail than Captain America needing my help.”

"Captain America didn’t need your help, just plain old Steve Rogers," the blonde argued.

"All the more reason to come," Tony insisted. "Look, you can’t be angry at me, I brought tea to warm you up.”

Steve noticed only now the two cups to-go standing safely in the center console cup holder. Opting to save the argument for later, he picked up one of the cups and took a sip. His face contorted as soon as the bitter taste of black coffee hit his tongue.

“This isn’t tea, it’s tar!”

Tony glanced over and took the drink from his hand. “That one’s mine.”

He continued steering the car with one hand, while taking big gulps from his coffee without taking his eyes off the road.

“You shouldn’t drink and drive," Steve scolded him as he started on his own drink. Red fruit infusion with a spoonful of honey.

Yes, Captain America had a sweet tooth, sue him.

Tony’s face darkened. “I _don’t_ drink and drive!” he nearly shouted. “There is no alcohol in this, you tasted it.”

Noticing his bad choice of words, Steve turned his full body towards Tony. “No! I’m sorry, that’s not what I- I mean, I know that you don’t… do that. It’s literal, you just shouldn’t drink coffee and drive with only one hand, considering the bad weather and all. I didn’t think before I spoke. Sorry," he finished lamely as he sank back into his seat.

Tony shot him a glance out of the corner of his eyes before putting the coffee back in the cup holder. The silence that followed was only interrupted by the monotone sound of the wipers moving quickly over the windshield and the rain dropping onto the car’s roof creating white noise. Steve looked out of the window at the red taillights in front of them, searching for something to say.

“My butt is warm.”

“No, your ass is hot," Tony answered automatically, but there was no heat behind his flirtatious words.

“No." Steve sighed. He was so used to Tony’s comments by now that he didn’t even get flustered anymore, even if the other man peppered his words with a sinful leer. “My butt is getting way too warm. Which button is for the seat’s heating?"

Instead of answering, Tony leaned over and turned the heating off himself. Steve got a whiff of his aftershave, and the pleasantly warm smell was familiar enough to carry a sense of calmness.

“Thanks. For the heating and for picking me up.” He looked down at the cup in his hands. “And for the tea. It’s just the way I like it.”

Tony waved him off. “Not a hardship, it’s an easy order. Not like Bruce’s, either the water is the wrong temperature, the tea brew too long, not long enough. No barista could ever get it right.”

“Have you ever taken Clint’s order for Five Guys?” Steve smiled at the ridiculous memory. “I didn’t even try to repeat it, I just gave the page of instructions to the waitstaff.”

They fell back into an easy conversation about their teammates’ peculiar eating habits until Tony parked the car in the Avengers tower’s underground garage. Nevertheless, despite the return to their light hearted banter, Steve still felt the need to apologize once again for his mindless words.

“About earlier," he began as they entered the elevator. “I didn’t watch my tongue. I know you stopped with the drinking and I’m proud of you. We all are. And we support you. I didn’t want to accuse you of anything.”

Tony let out a long breath. He didn’t like talking about the subject, but Steve was always on and on about the importance of communication, so might as well. “It’s okay, Steve. You know, I wouldn’t have made it this far without your support. You guys have been a big help. My reaction wasn’t the best. It’s still a sensitive topic for me, but it’s gonna be easier with time.”

“But you are okay?” Steve asked a bit cautiously.

Tony took off his shades and put them in his breast pocket before turning his body towards his friend with a crooked smile. To his own surprise, Steve felt relieved about finally being able to see the brunette’s warm eyes instead of his own gold appearing reflection.

“Yes," Tony answered, trying to emphasize his sincerity. “I’m okay. What about you?”

“Me?” The captain was taken aback.

“Yeah, _you_. The weather is changing, the temperature's going down. You'd never admit it, but we all know you’re not a fan of the cold. That’s why I had your seat heater on the highest setting. You were shivering earlier.”

Steve looked down at his shoes, feeling uncomfortable with having been read so easily. Captain America wasn’t supposed to be so blatantly vulnerable.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just…" he paused in search for the right words. “No one really likes the cold. It’s just uncomfortable.”

Tony buried his hands in his pockets, his body swaying slowly back and forth.

“If you ever want to talk about it, about _feeling uncomfortable,_ I’m here for you.”

“Same." Steve answered just as the elevator announced their arrival at the common floor with a ding. “If you want to talk about the drinking.”

“Yeah, thank you, good to know,” Tony murmured as he rushed through the slit between the still opening doors, eager to leave the conversation behind.

~

Soft music was playing on the common floor mixed with the sound of rain pattering against the large windows. Tony recognized the playlist as one of Nat's, the songs carrying a sense of doom that in his opinion only a former KGB agent could find catchy. The space was sparsely lit and he followed the most prominent light source towards the kitchen area, Steve close behind him.

They found Natasha at the long dining table, her chair balancing on two legs and a paperback resting in her lap.

“Feet of the table, Romanoff!” Tony admonished her before putting his cup down on the counter and sticking his head inside the fridge. Still, he wasn’t quick enough to hide from her observing eyes.

He could hear the chair legs thudding on the hardwood floor as she sat up straight.

“You’re bugged,” she stated bluntly. “Why? What were you talking about?"

Tony threw a glance over his shoulder at Steve, who busied himself drinking the rest of his probably now cold tea. With a roll of his eyes, he turned back to the food. Of course he couldn’t expect any help from Captain Ineloquent.

“Just the weather and how much we hate the cold.'' He figured half truths were better than lies.

“That’s because you’re weak Americans." If her voice sounded disinterested, Tony was sure that it was just because she already knew what was going on.

Proving him right, she closed the book and shooed him away from the fridge.

"Give me some space, I'll make dinner."

" _Borscht_?" Tony asked delighted.

"No, I was thinking Irish stew", she decided, her eyes following Steve, who was putting his empty cup into the trash can.

“Is Bucky home, yet?” Steve pondered loudly.

Natasha shook her head. “I told him not to come home without a replacement for the last _Vdokhnovenie_ he ate and he jumped into the Quinjet before I could tell him about the Russian deli in Queens.”

“You're ruthless,” Tony proclaimed laughing at the same time as Steve groaned.

“He's such a fat-head.”

Nat only shrugged. “You two go and get changed. You leave a new puddle with every step you take."

“Oh, shit," Steve muttered as he looked back at the wet trail they had left. He quickly slipped off his shoes and picked them up. “I’m gonna mop the floor later.”

“I pay people to do that," Tony remarked as they made their way back to the elevator. Amused, he watched as Steve awkwardly shuffled his feet over the parquet, trying to wipe up most of the rainwater with his now soaked socks. Tony followed a few steps behind the soldier, his dirty shoes still on his feet and leaving new stains.

“I know, but I feel awkward to be in the room while they work around me. I’d rather do it myself.”

“I could build a floor wiping robot. To Steve’s floor and then mine, Jarvis.”

Without further prompting, the elevator began it’s silent ascent.

“And make Morris lose his job? You’re a heartless employer!" Steve cried out in an exaggerated moral outrage.

Tony rolled his eyes at his antics. “Alright, Mr. Working Class, keep wiping the floors. But don’t expect a reward.”

“Spoken like a true bourgeois.”

“You’re Captain America, capitalism should be your middle name.”

The ding of the elevator arriving at the first stop was drowned out by Steve’s laugh.

“But Captain Communism has such a nice ring to it,'' he quipped as he got off the cab.

“See you later, Tony.”

He gave a small wave of his hand that the inventor found silly but returned nonetheless.

“Yeah, see ya.”

They both kept smiling long after the elevator doors were closed.

~

“Stop! Don’t move!”

Intuitively Tony listened to the command that had been bellowed in what the team had dubbed The Captain’s Voice and immediately stopped in his tracks before even processing what was going on. He had just rounded the corner to the common floor after changing out of his business suit and into a washed out pair of jeans and a burgundy henley. Inside his head, he already estimated how long it would take for the Iron Man suit to arrive, how many vital minutes he would have to fight without the armor.

“The floor’s still wet."

The tension left the engineer’s body as quickly as it had come. He looked over to the far end of the room where Steve was still moving a mop in wide arches. His wet clothes had been replaced by gray sweatpants and a beat-up shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D logo on the front. On his feet were those ridiculous cleaning slippers he got from Clint last Christmas. They looked as if someone had skinned a poor poodle, colored its remains purple and glued them to the sole of the ugliest pair of sandals they could find.

Natasha was sitting atop the kitchen counter, the stew already cooking in a pot on the stove next to her. Every now and then she picked up a wooden spoon and stirred the food.

“There was _no need_ to use that voice,” Tony humphed, irritated and relieved at the same time.

Steve looked at him in confusion. “What voice?”

“The voice you use during missions," Nat piped up.

"That's just my voice," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"No, it's your _Captain's Voice._ It's for giving commands in a serious situation. It means that there will be serious consequences if I don't follow your orders," Tony explained. "It should be reserved for missions only. And maybe the bedroom."

"You don't even follow my orders during important missions, what good would it be in the bedroom?"

"Too bad you'll never know."

Steve huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I'm missing out big time, am I not?"

They both chuckled, content with their familiar banter, yet uncomfortable with the unclear meaning of their words.

Natasha heaved a deep sigh and stirred the pot.

~

Later, once the floor was dry and the stew was done, they sat around the large dining table, enjoying the food and the time with their teammates. Natasha had made enough to feed a small army. They always cooked more than they needed, knowing that any leftovers would be ravaged quickly enough. Besides, they never knew when someone would suddenly join them.

As of today, Carol and Rhodey had decided to spend their free evening together at the tower. Carol was eating easily as much as Steve, Tony was sated by just watching the two shoveling food into their faces. Nevertheless, Rhodey looked at Carol as if he was studying a masterpiece.

“Are you two planing to stop any time soon or will I have to declare bankruptcy in the near future?”

Carol kept eating, unimpressed, but at least Steve had the decency to look sheepish. “Nat makes a really good stew.”

“You wanna know the secret ingredient?” she whispered loudly, with one of her hands cupping her mouth.

“Coriander?” Carol guessed between bites.

“Nope,” Nat answered, letting the P pop.

“Love?” Rhodey let drop without taking his eyes off Carol.

The redhead put her hand to her mouth and made a farting noise.

“Vodka?” Tony threw in, just to annoy her, and continued to slurp his dish.

Tasha graced him with the obligatory roll of her eyes.

“Blood.”

At the sudden quiet, Steve looked up from his bowl to find everyone staring at him.

“It thickens the broth, has a lot of proteins. It tastes better than you think.”

The other four were still giving him incredulous looks.

“When there is not enough to eat, people use every part of the animal. We didn't have much during the Great Depression and World War II,” he defended himself, his back twitching as if he was fighting two impulses at once, sitting up straight and hunching his shoulders.

“It's not blood,” Natasha broke the silence around the table.

Reluctantly, the others began eating again.

“So, what is the secret ingredient?”

“Now I am embarrassed to say,” Nat drawled. “I'm the Black Widow and I got out-creeped by Captain America.”

“It's not creepy!” Steve groaned. “It's as normal as eating the bones narrow in pudding and gummy bears.”

Rhodey faked retching. “This is gross, we're trying to eat.”

“You wanna know what's gross?” Tony interjected loudly, leaning over the table towards Carol. “Rhodey used to microwave his underwear back at MIT.”

“That's out of context!” Rhodey protested, but he was already drowned out by the others' outcries and imploring questions, which Tony only answered with vague half-truths that were not in favor of the colonel.

Steve met Tony's eyes across the table, mouthing a thank you. The genius gave him a quick wink and continued to play his best friend for a sucker, while a lightning bolt flashed in the distance. Steve watched the raindrops race each other down the large windows, the sound of grumbling thunder and his friends' laughter merging, and didn't feel so cold anymore.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

A few days later, Tony walked out onto the observation deck in a hurry, searching for that one pair of shades that went perfectly with his light gray Dunhill. Pleasantly surprised to hear slow jazz playing over the speakers, he looked around for Steve, the tower's only inhabitant who frequently enjoyed this kind of music, and found him sitting in a chair close to the guardrail, facing towards the city.

The rain clouds of the last few days had dispersed and the warm weather was rearing up for a great finale before the north wind brought the cold that would keep New York in its grip for the next months. The light was bright outside and he paused to watch the orange rays of the early-setting autumn sun reflecting golden in the other man's hair before he walked closer.

Expecting Steve to be making another sketch of New York's skyline, Tony was once again surprised to find that, instead of a pen in his hand and a sketchbook in his lap, there were knitting needles and a ball of wool.

He couldn't help but cry out. _“What are you doing?"_

The supersoldier wasn't even startled by his teammate's sudden outburst. He had heard Tony coming out onto the balcony and had been waiting for the billionaire to say something, so he just turned his head towards him without stopping the movement of the needles. “I'm knitting,” he shrugged.

“I can see that. But _why?"_ Tony asked with a frown, not sure if he liked that his best friend could still surprise him or not. “And _since when?”_

“You remember Walter?” Steve began explaining, metal needles click-clacking with every swift movement of his hands.

“The veteran you met last memorial day?”

“Yeah, him. His wife used to knit them a matching pair of socks every winter, but her arthritis had gotten worse and she can't hold the needles anymore. Walter wants to surprise her with a new pair that he made himself.”

“You're not helping him, are you?” Tony asked, eyeing the river of cobalt blue wool assembled in a crude pattern.

“No-”

“Good, 'cause whatever you're making, it doesn't even look _close_ to a sock.”

“Haha,” Steve said in his most monotone voice. “No, I'm not helping him. He told me about the benefits of knitting-”

“Benefits?”

“Yes, benefits," Steve huffed. “Now stop interrupting me or I'll stop talking to you.”

Immediately, Tony mimicked zipping his mouth shut, getting Steve to shake his head and look down to hide an affectionate smile.

“It's good to increase your fine motor skills. It's also good training for your brain, improving memory and cognitive anchoring.”

“Yeah, all things you clearly lack.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. Tony sighed, shutting his mouth and motioning for him to continue.

“I was intrigued and tried it myself. Turns out, it's not only good for your health, it's also fun and, at the end of the day, you have some tangible reward for all your work."

Tony watched the sure movement of Steve's fingers for a few moments.

“You seem to have some practice by now. Do some of those tangible rewards already exist?”

“Nah,” the blonde shook his head ruefully. “It never comes out the way I want it to be, so I've been unraveling it a lot to start over again.”

Tony leaned back against the railing, nodding his head even though he didn't really understand what Steve meant. They stayed silent for a moment, Steve concentrating on his work, Tony soaking in the sun as well as the soulful music and the warmth that seemed to be radiating from Steve.

“What's that song again?”

“Huh? Oh,” Steve paused for a moment to listen to the melody. “It's Strange Fruit. I asked JARVIS to play some Billie Holiday for me. I always liked her voice and there are even some songs I didn't know yet.”

“Billie Holiday?” Tony couldn't help the poignant grin on his face that came with the memory. “I think Howard never liked her much. My parents listened to a lot of jazz, but never her music.”

Steve studied the older man's face carefully. “I know even more music Howard didn't like,” he pointed out, hoping to read the situation right. “I could make you a playlist.”

The small smile on Tony's face was genuine this time.

“Sounds great.”

Steve answered with a smile of his own, mentally already preparing a list with Howard Stark's most hated songs during the war.

“I actually thought I would be alone at home today, but since you're here, we should go out, enjoy the nice weather while it lasts.”

"Oh, shit!" Tony jumped up and searched around, remembering why he came outside in the first place. “I can't, I've got a shareholder meeting in-,” he took a quick look at his watch and grimaced. “...well, ten minutes ago. Have you seen my glasses around? Oakley. Violet.”

“I think there are some violet ones in the freezer,” Steve answered with a furrowed brow.

“What? Why should they be in the freezer?”

With quick steps, Tony went back inside towards the kitchen area, leaving the balcony door open. He had to rummage a bit between the food, but he found his shades beneath a bag of frozen peas. They were ice cold and foggy when he put them on.

“Care to explain?” he called over his shoulder, wiping the glasses with his equally violet tie.

“Nat thought they belonged to Clint, because of, you know,” Steve shrugged. “the color. She wants him to take better care of his stuff and not leave everything lying around.”

Tony came back outside to give Steve a disapproving look. “Why didn't you stop her? You're the team leader.”

“Maybe so, but I'm not their babysitter. And I may or may not enjoy Nat's less dark kinds of mind games,” Steve smirked.

Tony wanted to say something sarcastic or tease back, but a cool breeze tousled the fair strands of hair on Steve's forehead, he had small crinkles around his eyes when he met Tony's gaze, and he looked so happy and so at peace.

He didn't even know that he had taken his phone out until the click of the camera brought Tony back to his senses.

“What are you doing?” Steve laughed, ducking his head again, a blush high on his cheeks.

“This is for blackmail,'' Tony said quickly, looking down at the beautiful picture. The warm sun was reflected in the blonde's hair, giving him a golden halo. The smile on his face was honest and open, his perfectly white teeth shining bright. Steve looked radiant and if the original hadn't been sitting right in front of him, Tony probably wouldn't have been able to tear his eyes away from the photograph. “Next time you harass me during training, I'll tell everyone that Captain America likes to knit in his free time.”

“My hobbies are not a secret and I don't _harass_ , I help to improve. Now go, before you miss your meeting.”

With a curse on his lips, Tony pocketed his smartphone and rushed through the door, yelling a quick goodbye over his shoulder.

Steve chuckled. The other man really was the perfect example for an absent-minded genius, his brain always jumping from one topic to the other. The littlest distractions could alter Tony's attention, yet he never seemed to miss the important things. And whenever those intelligent eyes were focused on him, Steve could feel goosebumps rise at his neck.

His phone vibrated softly in his pocket and he paused his knitting to pull it out.

It was the picture Tony had taken of him just minutes ago.

The text message “worst pic ever” popped up beneath it, followed by a simple smiley.

It took some time until Steve picked up the knitting needles again, but he was sure that the distraction would be worth it when Tony found out that Captain America had changed all his social media profile pictures to the worst pic ever.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Steve woke with a dry throat. He felt unusually hot and for a short moment he wondered if he was coming up with a fever until he remembered that he didn't get sick anymore.

Blindly, he tumbled out of bed and into his dark apartment's kitchen. He fetched a glass out of the cupboard, his enhanced eyes and muscle memory making it easier for him to find his way around during the night. He held the glass beneath the faucet and turned on the water. Nothing happened. Confused, he tried again, and again there was no water.

He moved over to the bathroom, but found, to his annoyance, that the sink there didn't work either.

Tired and frustrated, he turned towards the ceiling.

“JARVIS,” he groaned, not awake enough to form full sentences.

The AI understood him anyway. “There seems to be a problem with your apartment's plumbing. For now, please use a sink in the common area until a janitor is called in the morning."

With a deep sigh, Steve let his head drop down against his chest, before shuffling his feet towards the elevator.

He wasn't surprised when he found the avengers' shared kitchen lit. It wasn't unusual for one of their team members to have trouble sleeping through the night and they all found it easier to spend those nights at the communal floor, where there were signs scattered everywhere that they weren't in this on their own.

What did surprise him were all the cupboards' doors standing wide open and most of the contents spread over the counters.

He heard more rummaging and walked quietly on bare feet around the kitchen island to find a butt sticking out of one of the lower cabinets, the upper part of the person's body deep inside the shelf.

“Tony?”

There was a loud bang and a curse, and then Tony came fully into view, rubbing his head.

“Hey, Steve, what are you doing up?” he asked without meeting his friend's eye, his gaze flickering around as if he was noticing the disarray just now.

Steve didn't respond to the question, more concerned with Tony's wide eyes and the sweat on his brow, then his own discomfort. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yeah, peachy,” Tony breathed, his hands running over the sweatpants covering his thighs. Up and down, up and down.

Steve wasn't sure if it was a nightmare or a relapse that had Tony crouching on the kitchen floor, but he counted out a streak of genius innovation. Those mostly came with more confidence in the inventor's posture and a lot more manic energy.

He decided to play it safe and walked over to the freezer to pull out a tub of ice cream. Pistachio wasn't his favorite, but he knew that Tony liked it best. He gathered two spoons next and held one out towards Tony.

The brunette eyed the spoon outstretched towards him as if he was held at gunpoint. He blinked twice before glancing up at Steve, who tried to radiate as much sympathy and calmness as possible.

Slowly, his hand slightly trembling, Tony accepted the spoon. Steve took it as permission to sit down on the floor next to him, holding out the open tub to offer the first scoop.

They ate in silence for a while.

They did that a lot, Steve mused. Just sitting quietly, enjoying the other's company without the obligation to put up a show of snark and wit. 

Tony liked this quiet camaraderie just as much as he liked their playful banter, but right now he didn't want to stay silent, he wanted Steve to understand.

“I was looking for alcohol,” he pressed out, embarrassed to admit it, but needing to lay it all out in the open.

Steve's full spoon paused in it's way to his mouth.

“Not to drink it, I just-”

“Tony,” Steve spoke softly. “You don't have to explain yourself to me. I'm your friend, not your therapist.”

Tony nodded his head in small jerks, but kept on talking nonetheless.

“I didn't want to drink it. I wanted- I needed to know that I could be in the same room as a bottle of wine without having the urge to quaff all of it.”

“Why?” Steve prompted between bites of ice cream, aiming for nonchalant but missing by a mile.

Tony pulled up his legs, let his arms rest on his knees and fixated his eyes on the spoon spinning between his fingers.

“There's gonna be a lot of alcohol at Stark Industries' Halloween Party and I thought it would be better, safer if I knew I could deal with it before I have a relapse in front of a thousand party guests.”

“Then why attend it at all?”

“What?”

“Just don't go,” Steve shrugged.

Tony turned towards him with a stunned expression.

“I can't just _not go_ ,” Tony exclaimed with a wave of his hands and Steve was glad to see that some of Tony's usual energy rose back up in his body's movements. “There are some expectations about the public persona of Tony Stark. I've thrown this party every year since I've taken over as CEO and even after the title went to Pepper. If I don't attend, people will know that something is wrong and that will lead to rumors and rumors will lead to nervous investors, which will lead to a drop in stock markets and the company will lose so much money that we have to let go of our employees and then their children will go hungry to school because I am a drunken failure.”

The spoon fell out of Tony's trembling hands and landed with a clatter on the kitchen floor. Tony sucked in a deep breath and burrowed his hands into his hair, hiding his face between his arms.

“ _Wow_." Steve huffed after the silence had gone on for too long. “I never knew that you were actually as egocentric as the press was making you out to be.”

Tony dropped his arms to give Steve the stink eye.

“Tony, kids don't starve because you try to take care of yourself.”

“That may be true for normal people, but we are _not_ normal. We have the capability to help people and the responsibility to do so. One of my many responsibilities is the company.”

“But you shouldn't have to run yourself into the ground just to live up to other people's expectations. You're already working so hard and you have accomplished so much. I'll never understand how hard it must be to fight against your addiction every day for the rest of your life, but I have seen people breaking under the weight of it before, and you are so strong to have come this far.”

“Your father?” Tony asked carefully and Steve met his gaze with glassy eyes. “There was a side note, in your S.H.I.E.L.D files.”

“Yeah.” Steve cleared his throat before he continued. “He was a good man, but war changes people.”

“My father, too, you know.”

There was a moment of silence before Steve had found the right words to answer. 

“I heard a lot about Howard since I've woken up in the future and it's kind of difficult to connect the young version in my head to- to this… well- this asshole.”

Tony chuckled darkly. “Many people have that problem. Ask his former business partners, they'll tell you all about what a great man he was.”

“I don't want to know about Howard Stark, the business man. I want to know about your father.”

Usually, Tony would have averted the topic and talked about anything else, but something about the situation, the late hour, the quiet kitchen, Steve's honest expression, made him brace himself and open up.

“When we had guests, he was the most charming person I knew. Good looking, humorous, everyone was hanging on his lips. He showered my mom with affections, always bought her expensive gifts she could show off to the other ladies. Sometimes, at the end of a dinner party, he would call me into the smoking room and he would point at me and tell everyone how brilliant I was and that one day I would conquer the world with some great invention. I wanted to be just like him and at the same time I resented everything he was, because after the guests were gone, he always got so much _louder_.”

For a few minutes Steve waited patiently for Tony to continue. The slightly smaller man seemed to be lost in his memories for a moment. Treading carefully, Steve pressed the side of his thigh against Tony’s, trying to remind him that he didn’t have to be alone with his dark thoughts, that Steve was here for him. 

Tony’s eyes lost their distant gaze and he acknowledged his friend’s gesture by pressing back in equal measures. Another deep breath and he continued.

“He yelled at my mom for embarrassing him. She wasn't obedient enough or said the wrong thing. One time she laughed too loud at a guy's joke and Howard was sure she had an affair. Never mind that he was fucking around himself. He told me how disappointed he was, because I never created anything actually worthy to show to his friends and it was my fault that he was lying to them by saying that I was a smart kid."

He paused to swallow, a futile attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat.

“I remember when I was eight, one of the video recorder's buttons was jammed and it drove my mother crazy. I took a screwdriver from Howard's workshop, opened the housing and had it repaired in less than ten minutes. Mom was so proud, called me her little mechanic and told Howard. But while loosening a screw, I had scratched the front. He took one look at that tiny scratch and tore the whole device straight off the cables, opened a window and threw it outside. He said I had destroyed it, that we couldn't keep scratched junk in our home and that I should _never_ touch his stuff again. How fucked up was that? And it was always like that. He never saw my accomplishments, only my flaws. I learned how to ride a bike, I wasn't fast enough. I won the science fair, didn't mean my project wasn't shit, it was just the least shitty.”

Tony kept talking. It was as if a dam had broken, all the anger and disappointment over a father who was rarely there physically and never there for him emotionally. He told Steve things he thought he had long forgotten, but that had always been there, in the back of his head, still hurting - pain such a continuous part of his life that he hadn't noticed it anymore.

And Steve?

He just sat there and listened.

Never judging, never pitying, his gaze on Tony only ever full of patience and empathy. Every now and then he'd pitch in some kind words or a story of his own.

It was during a recounting of getting his drunken pa away from a game of dice to bring him back home that they were interrupted by JARVIS softly speaking up.

“Excuse me, Captain Rogers, but you asked for an alarm at 5 a.m.”

“Yes?” Steve asked with his eyes raised towards the ceiling, more out of habit than actually trying to face the disembodied voice.

“It is now 5 a.m.”

“Oh.” He looked over at Tony, who had an equally surprised expression on his face.

“I guess we should go to bed,” the inventor sighed with a self-deprecating smile. “I kept you up long enough. Hey, for not being my therapist, you really know how to get me talking.”

Steve got up and threw the empty container into the trash can before holding his hand out for Tony and pulling him up to his feet.

“I like listening to you. There's nothing more to it.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Captain,” Tony teased as they made their way towards the elevator, not even really knowing what he meant by saying that himself. 

Luckily, Steve let it slide and bid Tony good night with a warm pat to his shoulder as he stepped out on his floor.

~

Lying in his bed like a dead weight, his eyes falling shut on their own accord, Steve suddenly remembered why he had gone to the kitchen in the first place. He concentrated on his body and found that he felt nicely warm, not so hot that he would have to push his blanket aside, just cozy, his room a perfect temperature to fall asleep.

“JARVIS,” he mumbled, his tongue heavy from fatigue. “Will the sinks be working again when I wake up?”

The AI managed to sound sheepish when he answered. “Probably, yes.”

“Next time you could just wake me and say that Tony needs help.”

“I can't act outside of my prescribed parameters. I can only ask for help if Sir tells me to or is in mortal danger.”

“Well, you did good, JARVIS,” Steve assured him and cuddled deeper into his pillow. He slept better knowing that someone kept an eye out for Tony.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day, Steve was jogging with Bucky through the park much later than usual. Dry leaves were crunching beneath their feet as they sidestepped the many people going for a walk. Even though the air was crisp, the rays of sunlight were strong and warm whenever they peeked from behind the few clouds and that was enough to elicit the people of New York to go outside.

Fall was flaunting its bright colors and most of Central Park's trees had turned a bright red and yellow. Steve couldn't help but be reminded of the flamboyant paintwork of the Iron Man armor. It was only natural that his mind would move to the man piloting it.

_This morning, the tower's present residents had shared a big breakfast with a few friends. Bucky had managed the pans on the oven. He wasn't better at cooking than the rest of them, but he didn't mind the bacon's hot oil splattering on his mechanical arm. Clint's protege, Kate, had been busy smacking the older archer as he tried to steal the first bites under the disguise of cutting funny faces into the pancakes. Steve had set up the table with Vision's help while Wanda had put slice after slice into the toaster. Natasha had cooked black tea that was strong enough to compete with Tony's favorite brand of coffee, but the caffeine junkie himself had been amiss._

_He had stumbled into the room when all the food had been laid out and everyone gathered at the table. His greeting had been short as he grabbed a cup of coffee and two slices of toast_.

_“You're allowed to join us,” Nat had told him with an amused smile._

_“Yeah,” Clint had piped up. “When was the last time you shared a meal with your son and daughter-in-law?”_

_He had suddenly cried out when a not-so-arcane red glow had pricked him in the side._

_Tony had waved the words away. “God, no, if Vision were my son, that would make me Teddy's grandfather and I'm not old enough for that.”_

_“He's not too young, either,” Kate had mumbled beneath her breath, which Clint wanted to appreciate with a high five. He was left hanging, with a roll of the younger woman's eyes._

_“His temples may have turned gray but it's more of a sexy silver fox kinda look, right, Stevie?” Bucky asked loudly, accompanying his words with a sharp elbow to Steve's ribs._

_Steve had ignored his best friend's jab in favor of addressing Tony himself._

_“Tony, we talked about this. You wanted to eat more healthily.”_

_“Can't, I've got until tomorrow's meeting to revolutionize the cell phone experience for the sightless while keeping it affordable.”_

_“I thought you already did that, Pepper told you to figure it out a month ago.”_

_“I did, I finished it in my head, now I just have to build it,” Tony explained slowly, catching himself before he hit Captain America with an annoyed 'duh'. “It'll take me nineteen hours to build the new contrast-congealing display and merge it with a classic stark phone, then I'll have six more-than-reasonable hours of sleep before the meeting starts. See, I'm taking care of myself, the old me would have tinkered with Iron Man's touch sensitivity for five hours before starting on the phone.”_

_Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a deep sigh. “You must be the stupidest genius I know. Alright, but I'll come down later and shovel a PB &J sandwich into you.” _

_“Kinky,” Tony said with a wink and rushed out of the dining room._

Now Steve was jogging through this beautiful scenery of a fine autumn day and he couldn't even enjoy it, because his mind kept flitting back to the mechanic in his windowless lab, working the day away.

Suddenly, his feet were in the air, his body moving on instinct and turning the jump into a somersault over the rough pavement.

He whipped his head around and found Bucky facepalming next to a shell-shocked dog owner keeping his hard breathing and slowly moving bulldog on a long leash, the rope spanning diagonally across the walkway.

“Sorry, my friend's a bit over dramatic,” Bucky told the person as he easily stepped over the leash.

Steve felt his ears gathering heat and gave an apologetic smile as he stood up and dusted off his track pants.

Bucky came up next to him and they continued to jog at a slightly slower pace, which was still faster than normal people's speed. Steve could practically feel his best friends glare against the side of his face.

“Are you gonna tell me what this was about?” he asked with a wave of his metal arm. “I know what this was about and I need to know if you know, too.”

“I zoned out for a moment, that's all.”

“Yeah, because you left your head back home with Stark. The man already has enough brain of his own, bud.”

“You think he really can do that? Building a screen that raises itself wherever the color is darker so that blind people can read their messages by touching their phone instead of having to listen to it?” Steve wondered aloud, his voice full of amazement.

“ _God dammit_ ,” Bucky breathed with his next controlled exhale and slowed down until Steve was forced to stop running, too, and had to turn around to face the other man. “If he manages it, then I hope you get one of those phones, too, because _you're blind_.”

“What?” Steve asked with narrowed eyes.

“You love him,” Bucky stated as if he was talking about the weather, one hand resting on Steve's shoulder.

“Of course I do, he's my friend. I'm not one of those guys who are too manly to admit it. I love you, too, you know.”

Bucky let out a sigh through his smiling lips and shook his head. He used the hand on Steve's shoulder to pull him into a tight hug, which Steve leaned into immediately.

“Now go and hug Tony like that,” Bucky said over his shoulder. “And tell me that it feels the same.”

Smiling, Steve shook his head. The notion was ridiculous, but if Bucky needed proof that Tony was nothing more than a friend to him, he would show it to him. 

“Alright, I will. But you have to let go of me, you smell like a monkey's armpit.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Bucky shoved Steve away laughing. “You don't smell like roses either. Hey, there's a thought. You should get your man some flowers for the great emotional resolution.”

“Sure,” Steve agreed jokingly, his eyes already on a patch of large sunflowers. “He should be reminded that there is an outside world where more exists than screws and algorithms.”

He picked out one of the younger blossoms and plucked the flower as easily as one would pluck a daisy.

Bucky watched him with his hands on his hips.

“And Tasha said _I_ was an oblivious fool.”

A soft ping resounded, loud enough for supersoldiers' ears and Steve pulled out his phone to find a message from Tony, just reading "That's your dumb humor" with a video attached. 

Steve laughed out loud when he watched a little pug jump into a pool in slow motion, its face's skin folds flapping dramatically. 

"It's Tony, right? You've got that dumb look on your face," Bucky accused and Steve straightened his features. 

"It's just a funny dog." 

He held out the screen towards Bucky to look at the ridiculous recording, who just rolled his eyes. 

"You laugh about the most stupid stuff," he mumbled and opened his ponytail to run a hand through his hair, a sign that their workout was over.

“Let's go home. You can talk to Stark and maybe I can get Natasha to spar with me,” he leered with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Steve faked a pained grin.

“I don't know if you're more excited about actual sparing, the naked kind, or both at the same time.”

Bucky threw his arm over Steve's shoulder as they headed back towards the tower.

“I'm always excited when it comes to my gal.”

~

The first one to greet a freshly showered Steve as he stepped into the workshop was Dum-E. He curiously moved his arm closer to the items in the human's hands and made a whirring sound by rotating his claw back and forth.

Steve hesitated, the robot wasn't very skilled in handling delicate things, but the sunflower was more robust than most flowers and so he gave in and handed it over, holding onto the plate with the PB&J himself.

Dum-E made a u-turn and sped further into the lab, where Tony sat at a table, a soldering iron carefully held in his hand and a focused look on his face.

The overeager helper only stopped when he crashed loudly into his creator's chair, nearly slaping Tony in the face with the big flower.

"Holy shit!" the inventor yelled as he jumped out of his chair and stuck his thumb into his mouth. He glared at Dum-E as he safely put away the burning hot tool and began to scold him around the finger between his lips. "What is wrong with you? Where did you get that? No, stop the beeping, just go into your corner!"

Steve rushed forward, his free hand raised in a placating gesture.

"Don't be too hard on him, he's just excited."

"He's an idiot," Tony grumbled as he examined his burned skin. "He's the reason of 80% of my lab accidents. Look at this blister!"

Steve glanced cross-eyed at the thumb that Tony had raised close to the blonde's face.

"It's barely red. I've seen Iron Man walk off worse injuries, you'll survive."

"I'll have you know that in those situations I'm mostly functioning on pure battlefield adrenaline. This right now hurts like a bitch."

"I can see that. You're under real distress. You should take a break," Steve deadpanned and pressed the sandwich into Tony's hands, pretending not to notice the affronted look he received. "Sit. Eat."

Tony fell back into the chair and balanced the plate on his lap, mindful of the important clutter on the work table.

Steve pulled a large tool box closer and sat down on top of it. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, suddenly noticing that they were damp with sweat. Arbitrary, he found that he was nervous.

Deciding to attack the feeling straight on, he pushed his words out with force.

“Can I hug you, Tony?”

The billionaire raised a brow, making the face he always gave people when they asked stupid questions.

“We should have hugged enough by now that you know that you don't need to ask.”

“We did?” Steve asked with surprise and this time he earned a full eye roll from Tony.

He swallowed a bite of his sandwich before he started counting with his fingers. “A week ago, when we didn't know that we were invited to the same gala. The week before that, when my unibeam had knocked you out during training. Last month after the mountain troll ripped an empty armor in half and you thought I was still in there. When you gave a speech at the annual Maria Stark Foundation Charity Event. During that team building event Coulson tricked us to go to that we all hated. On your birthday. On _my_ birthday. On Valentine's day when you made those obnoxious sugar hearts for everyone. Should I keep going?”

Steve's eyes had grown bigger as Tony kept on talking. He was right, they hugged all the time and there was nothing to it. Just a simple gesture of gratitude and friendship. There wouldn't be any new revelations if Steve and Tony hugged right now. There's no need to test Bucky's stupid theory because they already proved him wrong.

Tony watched with increasing worry how the thoughts flitted over Steve's face.

“What is this about?”

“Nothing,” Steve quickly assured him. “Just people putting the wrong ideas in my head. But we're good.”

“Sure, we're good,” Tony repeated with a smile for Steve's good sentience and his own.

Steve returned the smile easily and for a moment they just looked at each other, bathing in the comfortable feeling of their grounded relationship, until yellow blossoms began to creep into the space between them.

They both looked in confusion at the sunflower before noticing Dum-E still next to them, dutifully holding the flower, and finally running out of patience for not being paid attention to.

“So, what's with the plant?” Tony inquired.

“It's from the park,” Steve started and then paused his explanation to tell Dum-E to put the flower into a vase. “It's a very nice day outside and I didn't want you to miss all of it for work, so I brought you a part of it.”

“And it's working, really looks like the sun itself is shining in her,” Tony lauded as he watched Dum-E placing the flower into the smoothie mixer jar. He hoped with all his might that he wouldn't accidentally drink the sunflower, next time he told the robot to mix a green smoothie.

“Stop making fun of me,” Steve demanded without real heat in his voice. “You're not allowed to when I come here with a resolution to your problems.”

“My problems?”

“Yes. I thought about your Halloween obligations.”

“Steve-” Tony tried to interrupt him, not entirely sure how he felt about other people worrying about his concerns, but the Captain didn't let himself be stopped.

“What if you have more important obligations? Avengers related obligations?”

“Great idea,” Tony exclaimed with false glee. “What are we gonna do? Set the Empire State Building on fire? Let loose some killer robots? I could maybe build a small army until then.”

“No,” Steve scowled adorable earnestly with his refusal to Tony's suggestions. “I wanted to propose a counter-event, an Avenger's Halloween party, that Iron Man has to be present at. You can't go to both events and the whole team and some other important people are forcing you to attend it, of course, so the decision of which party to attend is taken out of your hands.”

“You want to spare me from being at a party by going to another party?”

Tony already liked the idea of spending the holiday with his teammates instead of business partners and overzealous employees. He still felt like he should voice some objections.

“It will be family friendly,” Steve assured him, a proud gleam in his eyes that told Tony that the tactician had already thought about every important detail. “A meet-and-greet for kids. Kind of like the president does, except that we won't invite the press. Well, apart from Peter, he's surely gonna bring his Nikon.”

“This really could work,” Tony huffed, impressed. “I'll ask Pepper, she's probably busy with the company's party, but maybe she can perform some magic and conjure another one.”

“No need, I called Hill and she agreed to pull some strings,” Steve beamed. “As soon as you give your permission.”

“Well, permission granted,” Tony laughed. “This really is a good idea, thank you, Steve.”

He noticed with amusement how their team leader ducked his head to hide the self-complacent grin on his face and shoveled the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth to smother the teasing comment on his tongue.

“And thank you for the food,” he remarked after his mouth was empty again. “But I should probably go back to work now, so if you don't want to be bored to a painfully dull death than you should better flee.”

“I think I'll take the risk,” Steve quipped and moved closer to have a better look at Tony's work. “I'm actually interested in trying to keep track of your genius.”

“Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you when the technobabble makes your head explode,” Tony gave in, picked up the soldering iron again and began to explain his invention to Steve.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Whoever Hill had put in charge of planning the first annual Avengers Halloween event must be the Tony Stark of party planners,” Tony praised the purple and orange decorated location.

Despite the short notice, they had gotten a permit to hold the party at a small public park in Queens and even found a decent band to perform. Sometimes, money was its own kind of miracle worker, Tony guessed. 

Black pavilions covered with fake spider webs were standing in the center in case of rain, but the weather held steady. Tables were spread around where costumed staff helped kids with different activities. There was pumpkin carving and crafting skeletons out of papier-mache and a little contest of folding paper bats and seeing which one would fly the furthest. 

The trees around them were decorated with yellow and orange shining fairy lights, broad grinning jack-o-lanterns were scattered around the park. The sun was already hanging low enough that the city's large buildings threw long shadows over the area and soon the large fire bowl would be lit. 

"I would be worried about your big head if I hadn't literally just seen you cry over that girl dressed as princess Iron Man," Tasha commented while observing Clint, who was dressed up as Robin Hood and joggled apples for a small crowd of single moms. 

Every attending Avenger had agreed to wear a costume that was not their usual uniform, therefore Clint bringing his own bow was kind of cheating. Yet, Tony couldn't complain. Though he didn't wear his armour, he had simply gotten hold of one of Black Widows cast-off jumpsuits, widened the shoulders and wore long gloves and high shoes to mask the fact that his own limbs were a little too long for the shorter woman's clothes. 

"Those tears were out of fear. I thought Bucky was gonna kill me, the way he glared at me. Where did he go now? He isn't plotting something, is he?" 

"He just can't stand to look at you right now," Tasha waved him off. "He said, and I'm quoting, you're ruining the sexiest thing he knows and he fears that it will take some time before he can enjoy watching me in a fight again."

"Look who's got a big head now." He took a sip from his hot cocoa, spiced with pumpkin and cinnamon instead of amaretto, the way he used to drink it. "I bet he is actually trying to prevent Steve from seeing you, Lady Liberty," he huffed, indicating her costume. "Right now, you are Captain America's walking wet dream and your boyfriend's trying to stop him from harassing you." 

She shouldered her plastic torch and looked him up and down with a smirk. "He may have been blushing when I saw him last, but that's only to a limited extent my fault." 

Tony's ears perked up. "You've seen him around? I thought he was running late." 

"Nah, he's over there, at the cotton candy machine." 

"No, he's not," he countered, his eyes following where she pointed at and failing to detect the tall blonde's head between the costumed people. 

Tasha's eyes rolled skywards before she grabbed his chin and turned his face to the right direction. "You see your overgrown double making ghost sounds while handing the kids their cotton candy?" 

Tony nodded, his lips too jammed together by his friend's fingers to make more than an affirmative noise. 

"That's him." 

"No!" 

"Yes," she confirmed, finally releasing him. 

"Is he trying to fuck with me?" he asked perplexed, unable to take his eyes off his best friend. 

"In some way," Tasha deadpanned. 

"Hold my beer!" Without looking at her, Tony pressed his half empty mug into the former assassin's hands. "I've gotta go over and turn some tables." 

"This is hot chocolate," Tasha yelled after him, waving her torch in frustration. 

Tony ignored her and marched over to the guy wearing a hot rod red three piece suit and a dark and shaggy wig. 

"Who invited Captain Capitalism?", he shouted as soon as he was close enough for Steve to hear him. 

The man looked up and Tony was giddy with excitement when he noticed the bluntly drawn black lines on his friend's face standing in for a beard. 

"Your imitation of a heartless business owner looks great, but you forgot the glasses in the shape of dollar signs." 

Steve's skin flushed until his face was nearly as red as his suit. He scratched the back of his head, Tony could only guess how badly the wig must itch, and gave a defeated sigh. 

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I thought this would be funny. This isn't your alter ego, this is _you_ you and it's inappropriate." 

Tony's features softened and he rested a supporting hand on the other man's shoulder. "No, giving in to my narcissistic strike and participating in some self-love with my ripped doppelganger would be inappropriate. This is the highest form of flattery." 

A bashful smile bloomed over Steve's face and Tony answered it with a cheeky grin. 

Taking a step back, he inspected his lookalike and Steve raised his arms at his sides, silently asking for his opinion. 

"The suit is brash enough, but your shave isn't precise," Tony concluded and wiped his thumb over the smudged paint at Steve's jaw. 

"Some kid wanted to know if it's real," the super soldier replied bashful. 

Tony dropped his eyes from Steve's intense gaze and let his hand fall down to the blue scarf looped around the other's neck. 

A few stitches were askew but the textile felt soft to the touch. Tony recognized it easily as the one Steve had been knitting himself. 

He raised the loose end. 

"But I wouldn't be wearing this." 

Steve furrowed his brow and looked down at the garment as if it had done something wrong. 

"Why not?" 

"It doesn't go with the suit," the billionaire stated the obvious. "And even worse, it doesn't match your eyes. It's the wrong shade of blue, you need something brighter. But don't worry, we can shop for more yarn next week and I'll help you find the right one." He waved his hand, trying to deflect from his knowledge about Steve Roger's exact shade of eye colour. 

Somewhere in between the spate of words, Steve must have gotten a satisfying answer, transforming the frown back into a happy smile. 

"Stay alert, boss, we got new incoming," Happy Hogan piped up from the side and Tony turned startled towards his head of security. 

"My God, Happy! I told you to take the night off. I'm literally standing right next to Captain America, what's supposed to happen to me?" 

"I actually meant him," the bodyguard replied unimpressed and pointed at Steve. "New group of customers." 

"Oh! I'm on it," Steve acknowledged and helped the vendor to hand out the cotton candy to the children, along with compliments for their costumes and the assurance that, even though he doesn't look that way right now, he truly is the real Captain America. 

The sweetness of it all was disgusting and, feeling the need to look out for his teeth, Tony focused back on Happy "So, what are you doing here, if not to protect me from tiny monsters riding a sugar high?" 

"I'm here as a guest. I got an invitation." 

"Sure, and you didn't have time to get a costume. " 

With a raised brow, he eyed the bodyguard's usual get up of a dark suit and tinted glasses. Happy raised a shiny silver pen in front of him and made a quick noise with his mouth, his features revealing no emotion. 

"I'm a Man in Black."

"And I'm devastated," Tony declared and walked away from the conversation. There was no need to let Happy know how disappointed he was for not coming up with the idea to dress up as an MIB himself. 

He gave Steve a quick wave as he passed. 

"I'll go somewhere I don't feel inadequate." 

"Try apple bobbing. Put that big mouth to good use," Steve returned the wave. 

Chuckling, Tony raised his hand to throw his team mate an obscene gesture, but quickly turned it into a scratch at his head, when two tiny Black Widows jumped up in front of him and asked to take a picture with him. 

He could still hear Steve laughing as he smiled into the camera. 

~

Steve found Tony a little while later near the bonfire, trying to teach children how to dance. One boy, dressed as a squid, excitedly grabbed the billionaires hands and spun them around. Amused, Steve watched them trying not to trip over the wildly flung tentacles. 

"Shit, kid, slow down!" Tony exclaimed with a laugh as the boy skidded over the damp grass and was only saved by Iron Man's quick reflexes. 

The children close by were howling at once, some pointing at Tony and shaming him for using such foul language, while others started a chorus of repeating the cuss word. 

The man's eyes went wide as saucers and he frantically tried to silence the little rascals around him. 

He threw a worried glance over his shoulder at the parents, some of them wearing a disapproving frown while others laughed at the sight of Iron Man finally having met his match in form of a group of first-graders, when his eye caught Steve's. 

"Look, kids! It's Captain America!" 

Steve quickly dropped his grin and regarded the kids with a stern look. As he put his hands on his hips, he really hoped that despite the funny wig and the fake beard, he'd still come across as a respectable leader. Not that his team was always listening to him, no matter what he was wearing. 

"That word is for battlefield-use only," he proclaimed with his full authority in his voice. "And I don't see any doom-bots around." 

He would never admit it, but he felt pretty proud when the hubbub stopped immediately and the kids looked down at their feet. That was until one brave, or in Steve's opinion irritating boy spoke up. 

"Iron Man said it first!" 

Steve turned towards him with the nastiest stink eye he could muster. 

"And I will lecture him about the proper usage of inappropriate talk. I hope you don't need the same treatment?" 

The mass of small heads shook simultaneously. 

"Good. Iron Man." He nodded his head to the side, wordlessly telling the other man to follow him. "A word!" 

"Uh oh!" Tony stage whispered as he followed Steve, defusing the tense moment and making the children giggle. 

"Thanks for the safe," he told Steve as they went in a wide arc around the fire. 

"No problem, your team's got your back. On and off the battlefield."

"I just can't seem to censor myself, not even at a family friendly gathering," he continued with a shrug, though Steve knew him good enough by now to notice the self-deprecating tone in his voice. 

"Yeah, you fucked up," Steve sighed, but couldn't keep a straight face in front of Tony's indignant stare. 

"Stop messing with me, Rogers! You're supposed to be a good role model."

"I'm just staying in character," he retorted with a finger pointing at his hand drawn goatee. 

"That is pure slander! You don't see me sitting in a corner sharpening knives just because I'm wearing Tasha's clothes."

"Because that would be a lazy depiction of a complex character. How about some psychological facts stating that sex and killing a man trigger the same area in the brain? You could wrap it up in a joke."

"I guess one would have to have strangled a man with his thighs to understand that kind of humor and I must admit that I never had that kind of pleasure."

"I never would have guessed. With your reputation and all," Steve quipped and then winced, unsure if the joke went too far. He knew that the rumors about Tony's love life were a great exaggeration and that the so-called playboy had often had his heart broken. 

To his relief, Tony didn't seem to take the jest badly and went along with it. 

"I'll have you know that I got that reputation because I used to be the one ending up between someone's legs."

Steve bowed his head and chuckled into his scarf. Tony was delighted to notice that the tips of his ears had turned pink. 

"Maybe I should wear the outfit during our next training session and let the real Widow teach me that move."

"And give Bucky an aneurism?" Steve feigned indignation. "I got the feeling as his best friend I have to object. Besides, you didn't even change your hair for the costume. Authenticity doesn't seem to be your priority."

"That's because I'm not our Black Widow, I am _a_ Black Widow. Now stop criticising my dress choices. Why should a halloween costume make sense, isn't it enough to be sexy?" 

“Is that why all the women’s costumes are so short? Because the men today find shivering sexy?”

Annoyingly, Tony found that he had started sweating from dancing close to the fire and was now indeed shivering from the cool breeze on his damp skin. 

“Sacrifices have to be made if one wants to be as stylish as me.”

“Being the one who’ll have to endure your whining, I’d say catching a cold is way too big of a sacrifice”, Steve chastised him softly and removed his own scarf.

“I don’t whine!” Tony protested, but offered no complaints when the other man tied the blue garment around his neck. He even went as far as pulling up the zipper on Tony’s Black Widow custom. 

While his eyes were fixed on Tony’s chest, the smaller man brought up his hands and pressed them against the super soldier’s now naked neck. 

“Feel how cold my hands are!” he laughed as Steve pushed him with a yelp away.

He stumbled backwards, but before he could fall over his own feet, Captain America's quick reflexes had catched his elbow and steadied him. 

“If I didn’t know better I’d swear you’re not a grown-up, but two kids in a trench coat disguised as a billionaire.”

Steve let his grip glide down along Tony’s arm, until he held both of his hands in his own. He rubbed them between his palms, before pulling them up to his face to warm them with his breath. 

Tony didn’t answer, he just hid his childish grin behind the scarf and pressed his freezing nose into the preheated fabric. His head started spinning as his senses were overwhelmed by Steve’s earthy smell. He threw his eyes open to look at the blonde man, who was still occupied with warming up the inventor’s numb fingers, and wondered when he had closed them. 

Reluctantly, he pulled his hands out of Steve’s firm grip and nodded his head at the concession stand.

“Let’s get some of that hot apple punch, I heard it’s delicious and I'll have a warm cup to hold on to.”

Steve shrugged and threw an arm over his shoulder, sharing his super human body heat with Tony, saying “Sure,” and steered him towards the hot beverages as confidently as he would lead him into battle.

Later that night, when Tony walked alone into the quiet of his rooms and started to undress, his eye caught his own reflection in a mirror. With delight he realised that the scarf Steve had lent him looked rather good on him. 

He walked closer to admire how the color matched his skin, when he noticed something peculiar. 

Whereas the shade of blue had clashed with Steve’s eyes, it was exactly the same as his own eye color. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Steve looked out of his bedroom window the next morning he could already see the mist crawling over the calm ocean towards the city. 

It was an easy decision to exchange New York’s streets for the gym’s treadmill for his morning run. He’d rather not have to pace himself because he found himself walking through a wall of white and couldn’t see further than his own hands. Plus, in his profession it was always possible that the change of weather hadn’t come naturally but had been created to support some super villains’ sinister plans, so it was better to stay ready at the tower in case of an alert. 

After an energizing jog and a refreshing shower Steve took the stairs up towards the community kitchen. He didn’t mind the extra training for his legs and the four floors had him hardly out of breath. 

It was still early, therefore he didn’t expect any of his teammates to be up already. That was fine with him, he liked to prepare breakfast for his friends and enjoyed the quiet morning by himself before the tower awoke and started bustling with the chaos that came with several superheroes living beneath the same roof. 

To his surprise, a lone figure was already standing in front of the giant windows next to the kitchen area, it's dark outline breaching the stark white fog outside. It took his eyes less than a second to adjust to the bright light filtered through the pale mist, but even before that he had recognized his best friend’s posture. 

Tony was holding a steaming mug, probably filled with coffee, and wearing comfortable clothes. The sweatpants were one of the few articles from the declined mature hawkeye merchandise line, the billionaire found the deliberately placed arrow on the front of the pants hilarious. The loose fitting sweater was one of Steve’s favourites, the maroon colour suited Tony’s dark features perfectly and it was so soft that Steve had often actively looked for an excuse to touch it. 

As he creeped closer, he could hear Tony humming a familiar happy tune, before he started singing beneath his breath. 

_“Me, myself and I, Are all in love with you”_

_“We all think you're wonderful, we do,”_ Steve chimed in and let out a hearty laugh as he watched the invincible Iron Man jump out of his skin. 

“Fuck, Steve,” Tony exclaimed with a hand clutched to his arc reactor. “Stop being such an asshole!”

“You never grant me that wish either,” the blonde continued to chuckle. “What’s kicked you out of bed?” 

Pursing his lips, Tony turned back to facing the windows. “Nothing, just couldn’t sleep.”

Steve walked up next to him and followed his gaze. There was nothing to see behind the glass except for the all encompassing colourless fog, which led Steve to believe that Tony wasn’t really looking at the world outside, but concentrating on something in front of his creative mind's eye, a thought or idea that was only visible to him until he would bring it into existence. The dull background was the perfect blank canvas for Tony’s distinctive art of inventing the future. 

"Look at that, it's so quiet," Tony pointed at their view of nothing at all. "One could think we're the last two living souls on this planet." 

"I hope not, it would mean the end of the human race." 

The inventor raisesld an inquiring eyebrow at the super soldier. 

"The two of us can't repopulate the earth alone." 

He knew what was coming the moment the shrewd grin stretched Tony's lips and his ears were already red before the other man finished speaking. 

"We could still try." Steve got his predicted answer along with a flirtatious wink. 

Usually, he would go with one of the following two actions. He would either give a half-hearted chuckle at the ridiculous words, looking at the ground to hide the blush on his cheeks, or he would give back as good as he got. But, thanks to Bucky, he had spent the last days giving too much thought to his interactions with Tony and today, for the first time in a long time, he refused to do either. 

"Sometimes when you say things _like_ _that_ ," he carefully stated, his heart thundering in his chest, reaching a pace usually reserved for his hardest workouts. Looking Tony straight in the eye seemed too intimate right now, instead he stared at the other man's reflection on the window glass as he tried to gauge the reaction to his next words. "And I don't know how to take it. Is this just teasing or are we flirting?" 

"Yeah, tough luck," Tony huffed out with a soft laugh. "You do all kinds of shit that I don't know how to take."

"Like what?" Steve questioned, taken aback by the accusation. 

"Forget it," the brunette waved him off flippantly, but his voice was strained. He walked over to the breakfast bar, put down his mug and picked up a blue garment from the back of one of the chairs. 

When he held it out for Steve to take, the supersoldier recognised the scarf he had made explicitly for his friend and waved his hands in front of him. 

"No, please keep it. It's a gift." 

"See!" Tony burst out, waving the scarf into Steve's face like some incriminating evidence. "You made me this scarf. How am I supposed to take this?" 

"Are you really mad at me for making you a gift?" Steve frowned, feeling unsure, but also unwilling to take the scarf back and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

"Yes! No, just- You wonder about my intentions, but keep doing these- these _nice things,_ you hypocrite."

"Maybe it's because I like you more than we both thought." 

"Well, maybe I like you more than we both thought, too!" 

Their words hang in the air as they both were frozen to the spot, afraid to break something very fragile between them if they just as much as breathed wrong. 

Tony was the first to move. With swift movements, he looped the scarf around his neck, the blue standing in stark contrast to the maroon sweater. He heaved a deep breath and then met Steve's eyes. 

"I couldn't sleep because my mind wouldn't shut up. Since last night, I think that I am in love with you. I mean, I guess I've been falling for you for a long time now, but I only just figured it out."

Speechless, Steve stared at his friend until Tony started fidgeting beneath his gaze. 

"This is the part where you either confess your love or let me down easy," the billionaire quipped with a half-hearted smirk. 

Instead of answering, Steve stepped closer, took gently hold of Tony's chin between his fingers and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 

When he moved back, he watched with fascination how the other man's eyelids fluttered open and those brown eyes holding so much warmth beamed at him. Despite the chaste kiss, his breathing had turned ragged and his chest felt tight with emotions. He couldn't keep from grinning even if he tried, happiness radiating from him. 

Sneaking his arms around Steve's back, Tony pulled him closer to bask in the bliss the blonde man was giving off. 

"Just to make sure we're on the same page here, you want to try to be in a relationship with me?" 

"Yes," Steve said with emphasis. 

"Alright," Tony answered with a happy humm and kissed him again. 

Outside, the fog gradually dissipated beneath the beginning of light rain that set the basis for a cold and grey day. As it was getting closer to the year's ending, autumn was slowly bowing out and setting the mood for winter, the days getting shorter and the temperatures falling rapidly. Yet inside the Avengers tower's community kitchen, something bright and warm was just beginning to grow. 

the end


End file.
